


Prela(m)psarian.

by hennethgalad



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Almaren., M/M, Years of the Lamps.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:42:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25886776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hennethgalad/pseuds/hennethgalad
Summary: Tolkien Crack Week day 5: relationships/rare pairsan early encounter between Eonwë and Mairon.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Prela(m)psarian.

Almaren was perfect, every leaf and every petal neatly symmetrical and perfectly positioned, the whole glowing beneath The Lamps. There were flowers of every hue, in shapes delicate and marvellous, curved and frilled and spiked, rich fruits adorned the boughs, gentle creatures moved amidst the tall trees, on foot or wing, and the song of the birds mingled with the song of the Ainur in a harmony of harmonies.

At the tip of the isle, at the end of the straight path that led to the Hall of Manwë and Varda, beneath the meeting branches of blossoming trees, Eonwë watched the play of light upon the water, and Mairon watched Eonwë.

He had considered himself to be perfect, until the coming of Tulkas.  
Tulkas! Tulkas who would scarcely recall his own name if it were not cried joyfully by every simple-minded maia who saw him! Admiration that Mairon felt rightfully belonged to him was given instead to Tulkas, and to Eonwë, who had fought at his right hand.  
They had all fought, naturally, but Eonwë had been inspiring, his height making him conspicuous in the crowd, and his booming voice bringing order to their anxious strife. And suddenly Eonwë was the name on everyone's lips, his height and breadth, which before had been thought excessive, was now the most admired.  
Mairon felt as though his own name had been taken from him, and used to mock him.

But like all the rest, or it may be, because all the rest were drawn to Eonwë, Mairon found his thought dwelling more and more on the mightiest of the maiar. And where his thought led, his shining new body followed, and he leaned against a tree and stared at Eonwë as though he would become him.  
  
At last Eonwë turned and smiled his charming smile. "Mairon! What joy to find you here!" he looked thoughtfully at Mairon and along the long path "Will you... May I ask that you stand here a moment" he pointed to the middle of the path "You are so perfect, as symmetrical as this lovely isle, I should like to see you, in the centre, as the finest flower in the garden."  
Mairon looked at him with wide eyes for a moment, then smiled, and stood where Eonwë pointed. Eonwë stepped back and gazed at him until the blood stirred and kindled Mairon's veins, and strange new thoughts moved through his mind. He stared back at Eonwë, marvelling at the gleam of light on the mighty limbs, and the shine of his chest. Every part of Eonwë was larger than Mairon, most particularly that part which distinguishes the male. Mairon felt his own part warm and fill, as the blood burned through him. And when his eyes met those of Eonwë, he thought only of how that gleaming flesh must taste.  
  
Eonwë tilted his head to one side "Why do you frown, beautiful Mairon? Has my wish offended you?"  
"Are you in love with anyone?" Mairon blurted out, astonished at his own rashness, but driven by the thirst that had overwhelmed his body and his thought.  
Eonwë shook his head "Only Manwë, if that is what you mean by love?"  
Mairon sighed and lowered his head "I do not know... But what of pleasure? Have you tried eating yet?"  
Eonwë laughed delightedly "Have you found something new to eat, that you would share with me? Come, do not be shy, I will taste it, whatsoever it may be."  
Mairon suppressed a snort of laughter "Will you? Come then, step among the trees here, that none may disturb our... feast."

Eonwë looked around the small clearing that Mairon led him to "I have not seen this place before, it is lovely, the water tumbling over those white rocks, and the green leaves and the deep blue of the flowers. Oh! There is so much beauty in Eä! I long to see everything! To taste everything!"  
Mairon stepped closer to him and laid a hand on his chest "I would taste you, and I would have you taste me."   
They were still for a moment, the golden eyes and the blue, locked together, until Mairon began to move his hand, and lifted his other to Eonwë's hip.  
"Are you... Do you love me? Would you... Do you wish us to wed?" asked Eonwë gently. But Mairon pressed close to him and licked the salt from his skin "I told you, I would taste you..."  
"And have me taste you. You did. Will this bring us joy? For though I admire you, I do not love you."

To his astonishment, Mairon found himself deeply hurt by the truth, though he had never supposed that Eonwë did love him. Yet still, a secret part of him, hidden even from himself, was hurt, and he wondered if the adulation he had taken for love had not after all been merely the delight such as he himself had taken in a new flower or colourful bird. But the burning within him, which he understood to be desire, swept aside such details. He looked up into the large blue eyes.  
"Joy? I cannot say, for I have never before attempted this thing. But when I recall the vividness of my first taste of a mere fruit, I cannot help but believe that this..." he stroked Eonwë tenderly as he spoke "this could be even more... delicious." he paused "Do you feel nothing?"  
But the brightness of the eyes of the Herald were darkening, black pools spreading to swallow Mairon whole and drown him, and the body of the Herald pressed hard against him, and suddenly Eonwë stooped and pressed his lips to those of Mairon, and they clasped each other close, and moved without thought until they lay on the sweet grass and with gentle curiosity turning to blind frenzy, they explored each other’s shining new bodies.

But though Eonwë was mightiest in arms, Mairon was cold and subtle and his thought ran deep. Soon Eonwë was open to him, and Mairon reared above him triumphantly, and thrust deep into the flesh of the hero of the Ainur, and took him in exultation, letting the bliss rouse him to a shout of pride and possession.  
They rested awhile, Mairon with both hands behind his head, gloating over the prey which lay panting beside him, conquered and claimed.   
But Eonwë was wise in his own way, or if not wise then gifted with the skill to read the mood of others; and it was for this rather than his size or strength that Manwë had made him Herald. And Eonwë saw the thought of Mairon, of battle and conquest, and raised his brows, then smiled to himself, and rose up onto one elbow and looked down on Mairon, perfect, exquisite Mairon, and smiled, and stooped to kiss him.  
And all the caresses of the nimble-fingered servant of Aulë were remembered by the Herald of Manwë, who used them on his would-be conqueror, stroke for stroke, until Mairon writhed and shuddered and begged Eonwë, hoarsely, to take him.  
And Eonwë smiled into the frantic golden eyes, and pushed deep into the yielding golden flesh, and ran his mighty hand possessively over the bent throat, and down the side of the arched back, and thrust and thrust until the cries of Mairon startled the birds into a wheeling cloud above their heads.

But when he had finished, Eonwë rose to his feet and smiled politely down at the sprawling, panting Mairon, who was bathed in sweat, eyes still clouded with desire, and said "Thankyou Mairon, you were right, that was most delicious. Stars shine upon you!" and strolled away singing.


End file.
